Damn Probie
by Norbert02
Summary: *SLASH* Pre-Slash actually. Tony thinks Tim needs a spanking. Set in Season 2 *SLASH*


I like McGee, he's a nice enough kid, smart, helpful, hardworking. Its just that he…well, he constantly _asks _for it. Maybe it goes back to me being a dumb jock frat boy or something. Go Buckeyes! Alright, so that's exactly where it comes from…but still. I just want to pull his underwear up so tight that it crushes his balls and makes him squeel like a little girl. I want to watch his little fat cheeks go red and I want to watch as shiny little beads of sweat break out over his forehead.

I want to pull down his pants and paddle his white ass until its bright red and hot to the touch…I bet his little bottom would be so tender he'd start crying after the first _whap_.

I'd do it right in the bull pen too, right in front of everyone. I can picture it so easily, Kate would pretend to be disgusted, but I bet you every penny I have that her eyes would be glued to the sight of little Probie getting his. Bet her pretty brown eyes would sparkle with it.

Kate may look all prim and proper, but- and you gotta believe me on this one- Katie's a bit of a mean girl.

If we'd gone to high school together, there's no doubt in my mind we would have gone steady and ruled the school. (Just flashed on Kate's wet-t shirt pic…added a plaid skirt and knee high socks- nice)

I know, I know, high school's been over for a long time…. But the lessons you learn there, they stick.

It's like boot camp, its tough and not particularly fair, but you learn pretty quickly what your made of and what you're willing to take.

Guys like McGee, well it doesn't take an MIT grad to know that he was part of the AV club, if you know what I mean. No way Probie escaped high school without a few run ins with the dumb jock frat boys.

He'd have been too much temptation for a guy like me to resist. Hell, he's still too much temptation for me and I've been out of school for decades.

Nah, McGee has this… this pride that he's able to hold onto regardless of what he's going through. Its like pollen to my bee.

He could be bent naked in the bull pen, being smacked in the ass by me with Kate AND Gibbs laughing at him and somehow McGee would rise above it. This spark of resistance in his eyes, like even though he's being spanked, he's not being beaten. Know what I mean? Hell, I'm not sure if I know what I mean. But it's like, you can't break someone like Tim down.

Doesn't mean you stop trying, of course. Actually means the opposite. Means that the tears you squeak from those eyes are _worth something_. That when his cheeks flame red, you've gotten a little bit closer to breaking him, making him actually _submit_ instead of just pretending too.

I'm not a bad guy, I swear. I go out of my way to protect the weak and helpless. Its why I became a cop, you know. Cause as odd as it seems after everything I've just said, injustice makes my gut twist in on itself.

Parents beating up their kids or men beating up women or any of the million of permutations therein are all wrong and I find great satisfaction in bringing bad men to justice.

Probie, see what I mean, he's no kid, no abused spouse, no kitten that needs rescuing from a tree.

He's a big boy, is what I mean, so you can think I'm a jerk for wanting nothing more than to make McGee cry, but you can't say I'm a bully.

And its not like we don't hang out sometimes. A few times a month I drag him out of his super-geek apartment and we catch a movie or go for a few drinks.

I like to get McGee a little drunk. He stops stuttering so much and although he slurs a bit, he smiles and tells me things he'd never let go sober.  
Like how when he first started, he had a three way with Abby and another guy.

Oh, fuck, I almost exploded when I heard that. Seriously, Christmas had come early.

It took me the rest of the night to get out of him that they _both _had her. And all I could think about was that McGee's balls _had _to have slapped against that other guys. Like, it'd be impossible for them not to, right?

After that, he must have realised what I was after, cause he clammed up, pretty quickly and begged off the next couple of times I brought up movie night.

OK, so fine, I got him in the elevator a few times. Hit the emergency button and gotten right up in his face, so I could smell his breath (cinnamon gum, really strong too, like his tongue would maybe burn from its heat) and asked him if he did guys all the time or just on Abby's say so.

He got a little pissed at me for that. Shoved me back so hard I hit the elevator door with my back. But he instantly regrets things like that. Regrets it and feels bad til I let him off the hook, which I usually do after he's taken me to lunch a few times.

Probie, though, is mine. I mean, I can do what I want to him, because he's my Probie. Kate's and Gibbs too. The three of us, well four if you count Abby, five for Ducky, I suppose. So, yeah, the five of us, can do what we want with McGee. Have him do the dirty work or finish our reports or defrag our computers or whatever. And even then, I draw the line at Kate using him for personal errands.

He's pretty busy after all. He's the whiz kid at the office and though he's part of our team now, he's still in demand when computer forensics have stumped other agents.

I'm pretty proud of him in some ways. That big brain of his reminds me of a cartoon I sometimes catch late at night. The bad guy is so smart that his brain has grown right out of his head and it pulses with all the thoughts it contains. Probie's not a villain of course, but I think sometimes I can see his brain pulsing against his pale forehead.

When he's working on some computer problem understandable by him and only ten other geeks in Washington, he gets this look on his face. His eyes narrow and he bites down on his fat red bottom lip. I sometimes have to actually _sit _on my hands to keep from touching him then. From pulling his bitten lip from out between sharp white teeth, not even Probie gets to hurt Probie. That job is already taken, thank you very much.

Anyhow, the reason why I'm telling you all of this is because someone _did_ hurt him...

Last night we were on a case, and we'd been on it for a day and a half already, so we were all tired. So anyhow, we were closing in on this petty officer who'd taken a baseball bat to his commanding officers head, I was coming around the front entrance and Probie had the back.

The sound scared the shit out of me, to be honest. It was late at night and the streets were really quiet and the sound of flesh hitting something hard was loud. I mean it was _way _louder than you'd think it would be. I ran around the side of the house and just about leaped over the chained gate. There was our guy, standing over Probie, with the same baseball bat he had used to put Commander Lestkin in the hospital.

Probie was already on the ground and he was moaning in pain and I gotta tell you, I made it to that fucker with the bat in about a millisecond after that. I'm a fairly big guy, over six feet and strong (mentioned the Buckeyes, right?) but I'm no marine and I wouldn't expect to fair all that well against a guy whose life is the core. But seeing McGeek on the ground, _my _McGeek. It pissed me off and I went…I don't know, red is the best way I can think to describe it.

Kate said, "ape-shit." and I laughed until I almost wet myself. Those words out of her prim little mouth- Excellent!

Anyhow, I went _red _and dove at that jarhead and pounded him into the ground.

It took me a while to realise it was Gibbs who was yelling at me to let go and when I didn't react to his command it took him and Kate to pull me off the guy.

I remember that I was panting and filled with adrenaline and my fist was cocked before I realised it was pointed at Gibbs. And I do not have a death wish so I backed down (You've seen Spike and Chester, I assume. If not, then you need to watch more Looney Tunes and know that I am the little yappy dog to Gibbs' much bigger, much surlier dog).

McGee was beaten pretty bad, though not as bad as Commander Lestkin and they're going to release him from the hospital later today. Broken arm, shattered femur and three ribs later.

He'd escaped without so much as a tap to the big brain of his, for which I'm thankful. McGee wouldn't be my McGeek if he couldn't do the Sunday Crossword in pen.

I know that because he drops it off on my desk every Monday morning. Just to let me know how smart he is and how smart I'm not, I suppose. See, McGee isn't in need of saving, not from me anyhow. It's not like he doesn't get his licks in. For months after the Voss case, McGee had somehow changed every screensaver and wallpaper on my phone, computer and PDA to an ever changing slideshow of men making out with other men. I'd change it back to one of my FHM skins only to have the change somehow corrupted. So I'd stare everyday at close ups of dude on dude action.

It didn't bother me in the way that I would have thought, truth be known. It did make me wonder where Probie had gotten so many pictures and video clips though. They were kind of arty too, like not snagged off some random porn site, but chosen because they were all kind of, well…pretty. There was one file in particular that I couldn't stop looking at. It was a close up of a pouty bottom lip caught between the teeth of another man.

I don't have any problem with gay men. I've always thought that prejudice is pretty pointless. I'd just never really thought it anything to do with me . I like women, have always liked women, will always like women. But that picture, it was like exactly what I wanted to do to McGee. When he bit down on his lip, I always wanted to snatch it away from him. If anyone was going to bite that lip it'd be me.

So, now I have to decide what to do about it. I'm pretty easy you know. I don't get twisted up inside about most things. I can change my outlook easily enough. If I'm wrong about a suspect I don't hang on to them, I look outward and find out who really committed the crime. Adaptable, my old Chief called me. It's what makes me so good at undercover jobs. I can shift my perspective to suit my situation.

So now, I have to decide whether I want to spank McGee or whether I want to bite that fat lower lip of his.

…Fine, alright, my dick just jumped at that thought. Of both of those thoughts, they kind of melted together.

McGee over my knee does it for me, I guess. Who'd have thought? Tim bare assed, pants snagged around his ankles, bent over my lap, his face pointed to the floor, going red as the blood rushes in.

I'd use my hand to start off with, I think. Slap him lightly to start, test what kind of muscle tone he had. Whether my hand would bounce off of muscled globes or whether the flesh would quiver.

I don't have a preference actually, which in and of itself is kind of weird. I always prefer hard bodies. But… I don't know, I could see if Tim's ass, you know, jiggled, it'd be kind of nice.

Maybe I'd run my hand over it to stop the movement.

Fuck me! I'm getting serious wood thinking about McGeek's ass.

And I'm late anyhow, so I'm outta here.

Gibbs told me to pick Probie up in a few hours and I better get going. They might have paper work or something for me to do before they release him.

And maybe I'll stop off at the video store before I get him. That new sci-fi flick is out and I think he mentioned something about that ages ago.

Huh, better stop off and pick him up some groceries too… Damn Probie, can't tie his shoes without me.


End file.
